forkedroad | (no subject)

(no subject)

As Annabelle walks on the hard wood floor, it's wet. Wet with black, cold ink, lapping around her feet—despite its darkness, it only leaves a faint gray trace of water on her feet as she slowly steps forward. Her skirt drifts side to side as she walks, gently, just at her ankles, and she's careful not to make a sound.

The room is cold, such that it stings her skin, burning the edges of her ears and knuckles bright pink. The hardwood floor, as far as she can manage to see, which isn't very far, is all there is of any discernible structure. But even the panels of the floor are eaten up by black, and she can't feel any impression of the walls around her.

She can see a bed, though—and someone in it. There's been so many times she's been the last one to bed, even if it wasn't exactly regular enough to be the known norm and routine, and she's seen the Tanner brothers comfortably tossed about the bed, sometimes entangled. But this time, there's only one of them. She can see the outline of him in the moonlight, though there are no windows. He's in his bed clothes, and is asleep.

As she gets closer to the bed, her skin breaks out in goosebumps, her pupils dilating as her focus is drawn in unwittingly by him. The closer she gets, the warmer the air becomes, pulling her nearer as a source of comfort. She kneels against the bed, right at the end of it. Lauren is curled on his side, a little, and seems roused by the shifting of the weight on the bed. He shifts, slightly, noticing Annabelle coming in at the foot of the bed, rather than the side of it, pushing himself up a little bit, his hair a sleepy mess. He looks tired, but not confused.

She comes forward across him, and Lauren anxiously wets the crease of his lips with his tongue as he watches her, anticipating. Her hand slides up the side of his thigh, and he shifts so that his back is against the bed. She can see his cock shift in his sleeping pants, and she continues moving up. Her hand brushes his crotch, and his breath hitches, his eyelids fluttering from the passing contact. She doesn't give him any more than that, and she moves further up. Lauren takes hungry handfuls of her skirt at its sides, his body tense once he feels her skirt brush his collarbones.

Annabelle watches him, and she feels as if she's burning. He licks his lips, not even looking at her, one of his hands coming forward to eagerly push her skirt up. It's a lot of fabric, so she assists him, lifting it. His palm smooths over her belly, then around to hold the small swell of her ass, guiding her down. She relaxes, following his gesture, and she feels his breath against her bare skin and shudders.

There's the familiar, velvety texture of his lips, horizontal against the vertical split of her cunt. It's a full, plush and affectionate kiss, bumping the soft nib of her clitoris, and her eyes roll closed as she takes a deep breath, body stiffening. She feels his tongue part her, and softly bat her clitoris side to side. She sucks in her lower lip, holding it with her teeth, eyes closed as she knits her eyebrows. Her head hangs, and she smooths her fingers through his hair. She takes a commanding handful of his hair, giving an immediate, but gentle yank, and it earns her a pleasurable moan against her sex. She breathes out heavily as Lauren both depletes and encourages her lubrication with hungry, instinctive ease, finding his tongue the most clever when its between her legs this way.

He sucks on her clit and labia, and she can feel his hands come around the backs of her thighs near her ass, pulling her closer. Her mouth hangs open in a quiet gasp, the contact becoming fuller as he deepens every lewd ministration on her cunt. She clutches his head, feeling sweat beginning to break out on her fevered flesh. It's overwhelming, and warm, each wave mounting more and more intensely. More than usual, she thinks. He licks her from the bottom of her open, eager split to the base of her clit in broad, slow, and confident strokes. She shudders, rolling on him slowly and carefully, and feels another groan from him.

His focus lingers on her clit, predominantly, though he occasionally redistributes the waking of her nerves with playful licks to her outter lips and the wettest part of her. It's not long before the articulations and distinct movements of his work on her becomes indiscernible to her. The ink is lapping around the bed, much higher than it was before, staining the sheets. Her body does a series of small jolts, which involuntarily arranges her head tilted far back, some of her curly dark hair stuck around her sweated brow, eyebrows slanted backwards with desperation as she cries out loudly. He doesn't relent, and she grips his hair urgently as she cums in his mouth. She cries his name, then does it again, and—

Her eyes open with a gasp, and it's over. She's staring at the ceiling, the room alight with the morning sun. Her breathing is quick, and her skin and hair are both damp. She sits up, and sees Susan and Lauren. Susan is asleep with the back of his hand on Lauren's face, and Lauren is sleeping on his side, drooling a little on his pillow as his face is smooshed by his younger brother. Annabelle looks at him with wide eyes, a little jarred by the very different images painted between fantasy and reality.

She winces, and rubs the sleep out of her eyes with slow rubs of her knuckles against them. She pauses, holding her hands there, and bites her lip. Her clit and cunt both ache, especially on the inside. But she isn't like Lauren—she can't just go take care of it with great ease and convenience. She sighs irritably, dropping her hands, and glares at Lauren before she hops off the bed.

She goes to draw herself a cold bath. When it's finally full enough, she wakes both of the brothers with a start when she hollers in agony from plunging herself in it. When she eventually emerges, sopping wet in her towel, looking like a put out, drowned cat, she storms to her side of the bed to get some of her after bath care and explains nothing.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He was sort of expecting her to say she'd stubbed her toe or something, or to brush him off with a joke. Her silence makes him look her way knowing she must be dressed by now. What she says ends up being as far from what he expects as possible. She honestly looked kind of bothered.

"Can I... help?" He isn't sure there was anyway he could, not with bad dreams, but just the same he offers.

She finally looks back at Lauren after a pause, but only briefly; her eyes fall to the floor, and she busily tucks some of her hair behind her ear, knitting her eyebrows. She remembers the image of his face between her legs too clearly; the warmth and softness of his skin on her thighs; his breath against her, and the heady sounds. It's weird.

"It's—I don't know. Probably not."

She looks back up at him.

"Have you ever dreamt of me?"

His blush is instant, his eyes widening in surprise at the question before he looks away. He really really wasn't expecting that. Of course he assumes she doesn't mean in a 'sexy' way, but that didn't mean it wasn't the first thing his mind went to at the question. considering what she'd let slip around him accidentally or on purpose it wasn't hard for him to picture here in that sort of fashion either.

"Um, sometimes."

He didn't usually remember his dreams, but he knew Annabelle had been in them on more than one occasion.

It's obvious straightaway that he's embarrassed. She didn't assume he would get her meaning specifically, but her reaction makes him wonder how he took it. It would be normal to dream of one another sometimes. She'd dreamt of Lauren before, several times—just not this way.

She's quiet for almost a full minute, not looking at him again.

"I had a very vivid dream about you."

It's rare that she doesn't look at Lauren when she talks, confidently staring into his eyes even with the most uncomfortable subjects.

"It was sexual," she clarifies almost immediately, speaking to the floor.

Oh. Well. That was information he's not sure he wanted or needed. He glances to her, and his gaze only lingers as he notices she's looking away. He really hasn't seen her do that, or nervously tuck her curls around her ears whether her hair was wet or not. Awkward subject matter aside it seemed like this was actually bothering her.

"Did that... Upset you?"

Now she looks up at him, but she looks confused. A little upset still, certainly.

"I don't know?"

She crosses her arms tightly. Rare uncomfortable body language!

"I've never had that sort of dream before about somebody. I don't know what to make of it."

He looks to her, brows creased in confusion and eyes wide in shock. She'd never had a sex dream before? And her first one was about him? He tries not to look as shocked and disbelieving as he feels.

"Well, dreams just happen sometimes?" It sound more like a question than a reassurance.

"Dreams 'just happen' all of the time," Annabelle points out, cutting eyes at Lauren in a glance before she antsily puts her gaze elsewhere, fiddling with her sleeve, arms still crossed. She can't decipher what he's feeling from looking at him, and is too concerned with her problem to bother thinking about it.

"This is different. I didn't think I like that. Or maybe I'm not. I feel confused."

Annabelle, you literally had this dream less than an hour ago. Why are you expecting to have all the answers.

He looks away, looking even more confused.

"So wait, this was your first dream like that... And it was about me?"

He looks back to her, still in complete disbelief.

"Me."

"Yes!" She hisses at him, suddenly remembering to maybe keep her voice down. But she raises a hand urgently, insistently making her point. "Stars, Lauren, for goodness sake! It was my first, and it was definitely you! I saw too much to be mistaken!"

"What do you mean you saw too much?" he whispershouts back.

"Your face! Gratuitously!! Between my legs! Your face, Lauren!"

She's gesturing at him so accusingly, it's like she's blaming him as though he'd done it on purpose.

He turns bright red immediately. He knows he shouldn't be trying to picture it in his mind but... Between her legs. Unthinkingly his gaze shifts down to her skirt. Between her legs. Shit.

She points at him sternly, having caught his glance.

"Don't."

He closes his eyes, his face feeling hot. "You started it!"

"You started it! If you'd only taken my word for it, I wouldn't have felt the need to so urgently clarify! Believe me when I tell you things like this!"

Now her face is red. She lifts her arm to cover her face, feeling foolish.

"I'm not trying to antagonize you; I'm confused."

Maybe if she reiterates that, he'll stop thinking about what she said.

He's about to argue more, telling her he had believed her, but she sounds so unsure. What should he say to her?

"It just... This just happens sometimes. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Annabelle pauses uncertainly, peering over her arm at Lauren.

"Are you sure? Does it mean I'm attracted to you?"

"I'm sure." he reiterates, sounding more confident this time. It wasn't like he had freaky sex dreams constantly, but he'd definitely had some with people he wasn't interested in before. He doesn't even answer the attracted to him question because obviously the answer is no. "I mean, it's kind of weird you haven't gotten any before now, but... Everyone develops differently so."

This was beginning to feel way to similar to a conversation he'd had with Susan not too long ago.

Annabelle watches Lauren as he talks, because she's interested in his response. But she slowly squints as she soon begins to lose focus of his words specifically. Instead, she becomes increasingly fixated on his mouth as he talks. His lips. They are pretty, she decides, but puzzles all the same over whether or not she feels sexual attraction. It had felt so good, though. Had his lips moved similarly on her sex, as with how he talks?

It becomes clear Annabelle isn't listening.

He stares at her after he finishes talking, waiting for her to respond. And she doesn't. He waits a little longer.

"Annabelle?"

She glances back up at his eyes when he says her name, but she still looks pensive and puzzled. She wonders if she's going to change—if this is going to shape her thinking, or if it'll happen again. Already, she feels as if her perspective is shifting. She tilts her head.

She doesn't say anything right away, then she rubs both of her eyes with her fingertips, dipping her head with a frustrated little sigh.

"I can't focus." She peers back up at him with a scowl. "If this is how men feel all the time, I don't envy you."

What. Does that. Even. Mean??? He cocks his head to the side, looking at her as though he genuinely cannot understand her. It's as though he's staring at some strange unknown magical creature or that his mind has just stopped being able to process human language. Men feel doing what!? Looking at women? Oh god, what, why? She was distracted by him? Did she... .?????? His mind short circuits on that thought, it's just far to embarrassing, way too much for him to handle at the exact moment. He forces his eyes closed, taking a breath before suddenly he turns away. Right. Okay.

"I'm going... To do... Something."

As Lauren stares at her in confusion, Annabelle stares right back, similarly a little confused herself. Why is he looking at her like that? What is he thinking??

"Have fun with that," Annabelle huffs out in defeat, dropping one of her arms as she blinks in bafflement at the floor, eyebrows raised. Maybe she'd go pick up some books about this horseshit.

One of the good things about adventures like these were that they knocked Susan out fast and hard. He had a lot of magical power for a kid his size, but he was still a kid, and using that much magic that fast usually left him feeling more than a little wiped at the end of the day. With Susan asleep Annabelle and particularly Lauren are free for the night, which means that Lauren ends up indulging in more than the usual amount of ale. With the adventure of course Annabelle had scored to, a book about some complicated metaphysical magic. To be honest, Lauren wasn't completely sure what it was about or why she'd wanted it, but it was apparently a big deal, so she'd brought it to the pub for some late night kind of tipsy reading. If she even was tipsy? He hadn't been keeping an eye on her drinking. He trusted her to make responsible decisions, which was almost always a big mistake on his part.